study, cram, call, make plans...
power point, presentation, speech, rewrite...
theory, materialism and idealism and the difference,
Marx, Freud to psychoanalyze...
on to polynomials, linear equations, I make a scientific notation...
take a break. (eat)
ham sweet and thick
with lots of pineapple and some cherries
potato bread and cheese
PowerAde to rehydrate
little vodca with o.j. and cigarette  
after lunch, breathe .
and it’s back to study lab to mentally beat meat.
paper due, final today, did I remember to triple check
and get rid of paper clips, include a cover sheet...
ready to evaluate... I think.
ready to second guess, miss dates and time, "you're late"
again...
95, 98, 3.5 GPA? pre-test, for final, make sure your research is done,
site, source, quote, student rate and double space
power nap, smoke again,
is the day over yet?..

I wonder if
You've ever read any of my poems
And panicked.
Trying to figure out if it was about you.

It probably was.
This one is.

Reconfigure needs to assign energy reconstruct fate and reverse engineer brainwaves to elevated futures enforcing ideas hibernating preeminent brilliance coming alive prenatal evolution. Welcoming thee to link in brain hemorrhage head free on a shopping spree alleviate mediocrity due diligently glance therapeutically window shine prosaically undress darkness **** psychoanalyze intelligently spread wings subscribe winds induct words deliver mind body and soul conjugate reversibly combine spirit turn angle internally.
​
​Working in elbow greased verbs ruminating deep pronounce invalidation entangled in idiocracy launching user friendly web pages intrinsically a freakonomic domain going insane shining rays cracking sunscreens helping planetary rounds eclipse about solar. Wax-on-Wax-off endocrine white space kick back black text in crain form ordained.
​
​Quite straight typing fellow with a fix on crooked to the point hypnosis evergreen bemuses natural flying air gravity hyperbole making oxymoron's two using sarcasm to go long sideways without end zone in sight; billions of stars away touches down.
​
Creating arms wide open webbed developers to jump off board and dive right in the Olympic pools front end incorporate within the monitor individuals made in presence of human impressions form unconsciously with thought feeling present in complacent premonition based evident affectionately loving blessedness implode

Ease in tranquility be seated comfortably cloud with deep breathe cushion lungs good follow the white rabbit onscreen to the address key in hole glow open discovery unlock visually learning the curve existentially along the Matrix true reality astute concurrently.
​
Ethereal beings mandate a collection of comprehensive passed down past up pass me downs full circle explanations; made up of endemic observations and epidemic considerations resulting from interactions with contagious social behaviors and their impact on individual conscience.

Maintaining the world is determined by controlled subconscious energy that makes up existence as a form of matter which in effect mettle's with humanities identity nodes in phenomenon mode pleasures contently raptures jovially in euphoria transported from delight merriment underneath skin deep.
​
​Poetic justice discharges an operator whom enlightens with irrational equations derives proportional equators inverts elements to the 7th degree in universal oneness; entrusting quintessence to implicate love as much as the seven sky's, moons and suns multiply by infinity guides trinity on the other side of dark eternally alleviating once and for all levitating time with no barrier black holes hiding dimensional authenticity atom reeves ring aperture.

I'm a bit of everything you know,
A little broken,
A little strong,
A little weak,
A little wise,
A little dumb,
The only thing I've never been
Is the one.

i don't quite know
how possible it
is to psychoanalyze yourself
to figure out the tender reasons
why you place people so
delicately on your plate
making sure the mashed potato
man and baby corned tooth
woman don't touch
like sticking a fork in
yourself trying to
pull out how she
made you feel
in 6 words or less
the language gettting
muddled like word salad
that only you can understand
eating and loving
becoming synonymous
like you asking me if
i (still) love you
and drowning my
chicken in the fiercest
bbq sauce
it's fleshy white
skin
crying out like
a blemish
on history with
no take-backs
like using
every condiment
and coping mechanism
trying to cleanse
my pallete of
you

I walk into class.
I am alone there...
Because I like
To get to places
Early. I wait for
Group to begin.
People start
Rolling in.

We all all say
Hi and Hello
How are you
And you and
You? All is
Well we each
Say out of
Politeness:
But really,
None of
Us are.
That is why
We attend
Group.

Each of us
Are damaged
In some way,
Or just have
A void in our
Lives. We each
Have a diagnosis,
Or two, or so.

So class begins
Late every day
Like clockwork,
And then it
Takes the entire
Session for one
Person to say
A few things
About themselves,
And we have
A few moments
To make comments
If the counselor
Allows any
Opinion but
Her own be
Expressed.

And then it's
Break time
And we all
Smoke our
Chosen
Poison because
It is scientifically
Proven that most
People with say,
Schizophrenia
Or Schizoaffective
Disorder or Bipolar
Disorder, (any type,)
Are addicted to nicotine
Because our nicotinic
Receptors are out of
Whack.

Then it's back to class,
Which starts late again
And another person
Gets a moment to share
Their uncertainty about
Their lives. And I have
To sit there with the
Answer in my head,
Because I am not
Allowed to speak
Anymore. I was
Told one too many
Times by the
Class that I
Make too
Much sense
To be a group
Member, and
Should teach
The class.

The counselors
Always hate
That sort of
Thing. They really
Hate it when you
Psychoanalyze
Them. Group
Is helpful, despite
It's many short-
Comings. Well,
I guess I better
Continue going,
Because I don't
Want to miss
Out on Jack's
Repeated *******'
About how Jill
Won't listen,
Or how Humpty
Can't lose weight
Despite a balanced
Diet. You know the
Type... A Diet Coke
In one hand, and a
Snickers bar in the
Other. We are all        
     UnBaLaNcE
                           d.

I don’t need you to psychoanalyze
my every reaction,

I left out punctuation
when I responded to you,
I gave you a one worded answer,
I let my head hang
a little lower today,
and I wanted to be alone

I don’t need your ******* Freudian theories,
and you can keep your ******* remedies
because no amount of positive thinking
is going to slow my mind’s decay

And I don’t need to justify myself,
to someone who is practically a stranger

If I can’t comprehend
what my mind does to me some days
enough to put it into words,
neither can you.

- S.G.

I can have really sarcastic conversations
I can insult people and have insults thrown right back at me
I can talk about the world, mysteries of life,  I can have deep conversation
I can even do pickup line wars
I can flirt if I have to
I can have an intelligent conversation
Or I can ask a million questions about you and answer all the ones you have for me
I can psychoanalyze someone and tell them about it
But please don't try to make small talk with me
Not only do I hate it, but I am sincerely awful at it
So I almost beg you to never ask "how is your day going?"
Unless you want the whole story with every sincere thought and the expectation that you will give me the same heartfelt answer

Feeling wild and loose in my head,
like I've got a hurricane attached to my name,
it's headed your way,
And boy you're here for the wreck.
Doctors exams running late,
this medication check is a month too late.
Government shutdown is changing the mental state,
And how we deal,
And what we do,
And please get me the f* out of here.
At least being gone,
I won't have to carry all these words around.
These letters are heavy and hurt my brain,
I don't have the patience to continue to psychoanalyze.
I'm lugging around this baggage and I'm starting to feel like it's too late,
in a constant state of pain,
what could I possibly have to gain?

Laid up on the couch with one leg casually tossed over yours,
the room still vaguely spinning with one eye open.
Maybe downing 4 beers in an hour wasn't such a good idea, but my anxiety got the better of me, and I didn't know what else to do while everyone else stared at their phones and I stared at you, memorizing the planes of your face so I won't forget them again.
My head is pounding and I doze, YouTube in the background. It has to be late, or early.
The fan blows against my skin and I peek to see if you are still there. Yup. Okay. Breathe, Mel, breathe.
The nauseating feeling of being left again roils my stomach. Or maybe that's the beer again.
It has to be early, or late. But this moment will burn in my memory for days as I psychoanalyze everything I've done wrong that could make you want to run.
Is it early or late?
I wake up and you're not there, but when I stumble to the bathroom you're laying in your bed and I would join you but the room is still spinning and I need to just lay back down.

I want you to psychoanalyze me
Tell me what’s wrong with me
So I can fix it

But that’s when I paused
Shocked by my own revelation

I may have never said it
But in between my words
Laid the belief

I am a problem

This is the root of my desire to be psychoanalyzed

This is the problem

•Poem:  'c'est la vie' & Goodbye• by t.day★•

I Would Hold my tongue
If I could see past it
But the lies
Created by my mind
Trip my eyeballs all up
So I can’t even see
So I can’t even speak
Got me falling
Trippin all up
Like cats under feet
Down life’s stairs
I smash loud
Why would I ever
Carefully ******* creep?!
I’m droppin
My stomach flip floppin
My heart
It’s always been calling
Your name
But you don’t want to hear
Found I Can’t
Correctly use my mouth
So to speak
When your near
So to see
Zipper mouth
Shut
Tongue tied
All knotted
Twisted and *******
Can’t say a word
If I wanted
Blinded myself
From the truth
Can’t even speak a thing
Your face
In the pocket
Of my mind’s eye
Your ghost
Haunts my
My internal memory banks
It’s a thing!
You’ve been filed
under category
‘What used to be’!
Silence so loud
Didn’t know it could scream!
Causing us
to go numb
To go dumb
Come all undone
Can’t feel a **** thing
Can’t even sleep
So I can’t even dream you
I’m all tangled up
Like legs
Caught up in bed sheets
My mind
Pushy
Obnoxious
Sometimes straight up
Just Mean
On the flip side
It’s such a seemingly passive
Pushover thing
I’m too much again
It would seem
Confliction
Might be the one trait
I lack in the most
Won’t you psychoanalyze that
If you please
Dissect the hell out of
All of my
****** up bent pieces
Tell me why
I’m so loudly and
Annoyingly me!
I’m here
Splayed out wide
before you
Vivisected
Laid open all neat
And all clean
My body an offering
Decorating your alter
Get down on your knees
Send up loves prayer
Maybe this is what religion ought to be  can be
Can’t help it
My heart always on my sleeve
There’s a war playing out
Just under my skin
Down the hall and
round my mind’s bend
In hollowed out corners
And emptied out
rooms and chambers
Just under my ribs
Where my heart used to beat
And the most bazar and puzzling thing
I don’t have a clue just which side to cheer for
Since I occupy
Both opposing sides of the line
Who wins?
And what for?
My life seems like a charade
Everyone in it just acting and
Here I ******* go once again asking
Is any if this **** even real
Or maybe another nightmareish dream on repeat?
Cause it all seems so put on
Poorly faked!
Absolutely bogus
And staged!
It’s got no emotional depth
No life like texture
To taste!
Can you live on empty
Never sated and full?
Can you thrive and prosper
Surviving on scraps of what’s left over,
Feeding only on pain?
It’s thick all around us can you catch it’s taste
Thick on the stale breeze
Choking off what we need
A new beginning
A fresh seed
Flash out
In a haze
Left in a daze
You’ll find
Out quite quickly
I’m no easy catch
I’m not one easy
To please
To handle
Or swallow
A reality you don’t belong to0
I come with an aftertaste
Bitter at best
An acquired taste it would seem
I’m all sharp edges
Lacerating down the long way
Every failed attempt
TO cage me
Make me compliment
Docile
And trained
Blows up in their face
I run hard
For what’s mine
Working double time
To make that extra dime
I go that extra mile
What I run for
What I’m after
And seek
Can’t be bribed
Can’t be bought
You see the truth
In my words here today
Some things
You must be born with
Some things can not be taught
A real one
Comes real
You can see it
By the way  that they move
Just by they way that they walk
And I got that ****
They can’t teach
If you get what I mean
If you don’t you
Won’t know
Can’t  Catch you up
Surely the ending
has got to be quick
I don’t think  it’s normal
For a soul
To be this *******
Sick
Jaded they say,  
Nah I’m more raw
My too thin skin has been
Effectively worn through to my bones
I can’t win
For losing
That much is clear
I shut my eye’s
All the world drops dead
I think I made you
Up inside my head
Reality is quite clearly
Not my friend
I’ve been force feeding
Myself your poison love again
Failure to launch
I never did quite begin
The truth is life has emptied me
I began dying off inside
From my start
I gag up the words
They tried to
beat into my head
Verbatimly
Reciting the lies
Line by line
“I’m fine”
Without so much as a blink
Of my vacant dead eye
Not a cringe
or a flinch
Can’t let on
Not one bit
That I’ve taken the lead
Headed for the big win
I’m not one to be controlled
They lost the tug of war like event
Of my soul
They lost the battle
The war
And they don’t even yet see it
Or know
My heart’s a rotted out apple
I’m All  hollow and cored
Your hands around it
Applying more pressure
More stress
I mistook that feeling
For love
That’s where I left it
To rest
It loves your mess
For some reason the best
So I guess
it will  always be yours
I shut my eyes
All the  world drops dead
I lift my lids
The nightmare begins once again
I’m trapped by your memory
Your ghost haunts my mind
With no ending in sight
  'c'est la vie'
& Goodbye
Such is life.

t.day
★
©